Spoofted
by rogueandkurt
Summary: How to Kidnap an Angst-Ridden Lab Rat. Greg and team-centric CSI/Fanfic parody. Mix of pairings, but mostly Greg/Sara. All in good fun.


**(2014) A/N: **This is a parody I wrote back in (approximately) 2006-2007. It got burried in my harddrive and I never posted it, but I recently came across it again. _Fair warning that the jokes/references may be (and probably are) out-of-date_ (more than half the cast in this is no longer on the show), but I figured I might as well post it for kicks.

Props to editorfrog for the beta-check ages and ages ago!

* * *

**(2007) A/N**: And now for something completely different. School and exams have been doing a number on my brain, so I needed to write something lighthearted and random. And with all of the CSI fanfics I've been reading lately, this was the obvious conclusion.

This is a CSI/CSI-Fanfiction spoof. It's all in good fun and is not meant to be taken seriously in any way, shape or form. If you smile once when reading it, then it was worth it. If not, it was still really fun to write.

It takes place outside of the CSI timeline. Spoilers for any episode that has aired up until the seventh season, but it's _rife _with inconsistencies (Greg is still the DNA Tech but 'Grave Danger' has happened, etc), so don't upset yourself trying to understand it. Basically, I threw the series in a pot and pulled out whatever I felt like mentioning.

As this is a parody, expect some major OOCness, purely in the name of humor. Like I said - this is just for fun.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Spoofted **

**Or: How to Kidnap an Angst-Ridden Lab Rat**

Greg Sanders, resident hair guru, sat in the DNA Lab, processing evidence and rocking out to loud heavy metal music.

_"iI can be your hero, baby.../i"_ (1)

Okay, so maybe 'heavy metal' is stretching it a bit. Just then, his omnipresent boss, Gil Grissom, entered the scene and turned off the radio.

"Greg - stop singing. You're making the fangirls drool."

Greg looked up at Grissom, a pout forming on his face. Grissom ignored him and placed a huge stack of evidence on the counter.

"Here, process these samples. You have one hour. And then I want you to do a second shift."

"But that's cruel and unusual punishment!" Greg exclaimed.

"No, it's angst-fodder," Grissom replied simply. "How else can we demonstrate how severely under-appreciated you are around here?"

The DNA Tech blinked. "..._Right_..."

"Well, you should get started," the CSI commented, turning to leave. "If you need me, I'll be in my office growing more facial hair."

Greg stared at the impossible pile of work in front of him.

"Man, do I feel angsty."

He looked up as Nick Stokes walked by his lab.

"Hey, Nick," Greg called, smiling. "What's up?"

Nick stopped and shook his head.

"Sorry, G, I can't talk right now," the Texan replied. "I'm trying to think up new haircuts. How do you think I'd look with an afro?"

Not waiting for an answer, the CSI left. Greg pouted, but renewed his smile as Sara Sidle walked in.

"Hey, Sara," Sanders greeted, trying his best to sound casual and sexy at the same time. He failed. Miserably. "Wanna do something after work?"

Sara handed him and evidence sample. "Sorry, Greg. I have to rearrange my Grissom Shrine to incorporate his new facial hair."

"What is it with you people and Grissom's beards?"

Sara shrugged and handed him a hair sample. "Also, I need you to process this immediately."

She turned and left with hardly a second glance at the poor lab rat.

"Now I'm under-appreciated _and _neglected. This sucks."

* * *

Greg exited the crime lab and sighed. The rest of his shift had been just as horrible: Hodges had mocked his latest hairstyle, everyone had harassed him for their DNA samples, and someone had stolen his Blue Hawaiian coffee from its latest hiding place.

"Not a good day for Greggo," he commented to himself, approaching his beat-up old car. He was completely unaware that it was about to get much worse.

"Don't move." A gruff voice threatened from behind our defenseless Lab Rat. Greg froze and was promptly thwacked on the head with a blunt instrument.

"But I didn't move!" he protested as he fell to the ground, unconsciousness claiming him.

"Yeah, thanks for that," replied the voice as he bent down to pick up the prone CSI-wannabe. "I've never been very good with moving targets."

With that, the man dragged the fallen body to a nearby van and sped away.

* * *

Greg awoke a few hours later to utter darkness. He was in the middle of a small room, his arms tied to a rope hanging from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. Before he had the chance to wonder what had happened, a bright light shone in his face.

"Great - you're awake! I was getting bored with playing Solitaire."

A man came into view, standing in front of Greg with a smile.

"Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?" The lab tech angrily cried, glaring at the man before him.

"Chuck Foster, my house on Divine Street, and $400,000."

Greg blinked. "Oh. I didn't think you'd actually tell me." He frowned. "Crap - is this another one of those Greg-gets-kidnapped storylines?"

The man shrugged. "I guess so."

"Damn. I was wondering what all of that angst at the beginning was about."

"Yeah, go figure."

"Sooooo... Do you have, like, a motive or anything?" Greg asked casually.

"Uh, sure," Chuck nodded. "I saw a CSI on the scene when my brother Phillip was arrested for cannibalism."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "And, instead of demanding he be released, you decided to kidnap a lab tech and ransom me for money?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, well, I've been saving up to get a big screen TV, and this was the easiest way."

"There are so many things wrong with that idea, I don't even know where to begin."

Chuck shrugged goodnaturedly. "Plot holes - what are you gonna do?"

Greg shrugged as well. He looked around the dark room edgily.

"So... Now what?"

The man produced a baseball bat from behind his back and smiled.

"Now, I'm going to rough you up in front of a camera, so your friends can watch and feel bad for you."

Greg gulped.

"That's what I was afraid of."

* * *

Grissom called an emergency meeting of his CSIs, instructing them to meet him in the A/V room. They gathered, all of them looking expectantly at their bearded boss.

"What's the deal with pulling us in here for a sudden meeting, Griss?" Warrick inquired. "I was on the phone with my wife. These long hours are really putting a strain on our relationship."

Grissom blinked at Warrick's random need to share.

"...Yeah. Anyway, we just got this video anonymously in the mail and I think we should all watch it together." Gil held up the video in question and put it into the machine. Immediately, the image of their young lab tech appeared on the big screen. The CSIs gasped.

_"Hello, CSIs."_

Chuck Foster walked onto the screen, his face once again covered with a mask.

_"I have your lab tech, Greg Sanders. If you don't give me $400,000 in twenty-four hours, I'll kill him."_

The group gasped again, and cringed as the man began beating Greg ruthlessly with a baseball bat. Nick grimaced as the bat connected with Greg's cheekbone.

"Oooooh - that had to hurt," the Texan commented as Greg groaned.

On-screen, Foster threw away the bat and pulled out a pair of scissors.

_"$400,000 in cash, deposited in the green garbage bin on Raleigh Street, or he dies. Now, to show you that I'm serious..."_

The CSIs' eyes widened in horror as the man's plan became evident. They watched in terror as he began hacking off Greg's hair with the scissors, clumps of the lab tech's blonde-tipped trademark falling to the ground. Sara turned away in shock and disgust, small tears running down her face. Grissom grabbed the remote and stopped the video - it was too much to bear.

Nick stalked out of the room, the rest of the team following.

"You okay, Nicky?" Catherine asked as she caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

The Texan nodded stiffly, turning to face his teammates.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice cracking slightly. "It's just, seeing that tape... It all kinda reminds me of when _I_ was kidnapped."

The rest of the team looked at Nick in confusion.

"You know -" he clarified, meeting their oblivious faces. "When I was buried underground and everyone was searching for me?"

Grissom blinked.

"What are you talking about, Nick?"

"Oh come on!" Nick exclaimed. "You remember: Crazy old guy? Buried me in a nursery? Blew himself up?"

The CSIs gave him a weird stare. Slowly, one by one, they turned and started to walk away, leaving Nick in the hallway by himself.

"Guys?" he called after them desperately. "Come on - you gotta remember! It was major character development! Guys? Somebody?"

* * *

The team had immediately split up, Grissom, Catherine and Warrick going to search the scene of the kidnapping for clues, and Nick and Sara heading to Greg's apartment to look for indications that he had been stalked prior to the abduction.

"Man, poor Greg. He really is the most innocent of us," Nick commented. "Something like this could destroy him."

Tears of defiance leaked down Sara's cheeks as she smiled fondly at a picture of Greg wearing a hula skirt.

"Greg being kidnapped has made him completely irresistible to me," she confided, sniffling. "I now realize that all of those years of brush-offs and put-downs were actually my way of expressing my undying affection for him. I'm now going to riffle through his personal belongings in order to deepen my attachment to him."

Nick nodded, understanding. "It's strange, but it took Greg getting kidnapped for me to realize how under-appreciated he is around here. Our bond of friendship is being strengthened by this ordeal."

"I love Greg!" Sara yelled at the top of her lungs.

"So do I!" Nick echoed.

Sara blinked, eying her friend with confusion.

"But... Nick, you're not gay."

The Texan sighed, shaking his head in tired resignation.

"I know, but for some reason, a lot of people think I am."

The Texan cleared his throat and excused himself from the room, running as quickly as he could from his teammate, who was now throwing him territorial glares.

* * *

It was the eighth hour of Greg's kidnapping, and most of the team had gathered in Hodges' lab to wait as he analysed the evidence they'd found at the scene of the crime. Grissom had found Greg's coat next to his car, and was currently looking it over in the DNA lab for further clues.

"Un_believable_." Hodges scoffed. "You guys could care less about Sanders when he's here, but the _second _something happens to him, you all act like he's the heart and soul of your team. What's he got that I don't have?"

"Occasional character development?" Sara offered.

"Witty banter?" Warrick supplied.

"Really awesome hair?" Nick suggested, growing defensive at the looks his teammates gave him. "What? He does!"

"This is so typical. Sanders is such an angst-machine," Hodges jeered, angrily adjusting the microscope lens.

Catherine crossed her arms, adopting a protective stance. "What do you mean?"

Hodges sneered. "Everything _always _happens to Greg! Remember last month when his estranged step-cousin was murdered by those mafia guys and you all had to investigate it, bringing up Greg's surprisingly-tortured-and-somewhat-unrealistically-dramatic past?"

Sara sniffed.

"Poor Greg," she lamented softly. "Who would've thought such an upbeat guy was raised by a stepfather who was an abusive hit-man for the Russian mob and a mother who was a partime-waitress-slash-dominatrix?"

"Yeah," added Catherine. "Or that he abandoned his family's fortune and ran away from home after his first girlfriend died in a mysterious fire, and ended up living on the street for two years."

Warrick nodded in agreement.

"Investigating his strange and disturbing past certainly resulted in a lot of Greg-centric angst. I, for one, feel that it deepened our understanding and appreciation for him."

Hodges shook his head in disbelief.

"And what about the time we found out that Greg is actually Grissom's biological son?" He asked.

Nick smiled sadly. "So much time the two of them lost, each thinking the other one dead. It's a shame."

Sara patted him on the shoulder.

"The important thing is that they _know _now. And they've both finally found the family that they've always wanted."

"Doesn't it seem a little ridiculous that so many bizarre and outlandish things would happen to one person, thus creating multitudes of angst and sympathy for him?" Hodges questioned.

Catherine frowned.

"How can you mock Greg's pain like that?" she demanded, angrily pointing her finger at the lab rat. "Do you know what he had to go through to get the money for university so he could earn six degrees before he turned twenty?!"

Hodges shook his head, defeated. "Whatever. I analyzed the glass for you, and I determined that it's from the windshield of a 1998 Chevy Astro."

Warrick raised his eyebrows.

"Wow. I wonder what _my wife _would think of that."

Sara frowned, turning to give her teammate a questioning look.

"Why do you keep randomly mentioning the fact that you're married?"

CSI Brown sighed. "I have to continuously bring it up or else everyone'd forget the closest thing I've had to a storyline in years."

* * *

"...and then there were these _ants _crawling all over me, biting me. I thought I was gonna die!"

Warrick rolled his eyes as he read over the car reports. "Man, no one wants to hear about your stupid kidnapping dream."

"It wasn't a dream!" Nick protested. "You guys were really worried about me."

Sara Sidle sighed, turning away from the reports to glare at her teammate.

"Nick, stop trying to take attention away from Greg!"

Nick frowned.

"Oh, sure - We had to hear _all _about Warrick's gambling problem, but as soon as _I_ get some character development, we just never mention it again!"

"Gambling is a serious addiction, Nicky. Besides, my problem got Holly Gribbs killed." Warrick sighed, dejected. Catherine put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Warrick."

The man shook his head. "It's just such a senseless way to start a television series..."

Nick looked between the two CSIs, his frantic desperation growing.

"TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN A _COFFIN!_ Fire ants _eating _me! Massive man-hunt! _How _can you all just forget about it?!"

Grissom entered, a smile on his face.

"Nick, stop whining. Everyone else, I think I've found a lead."

The team excitedly followed their boss into the adjoining lab.

"I've been analysing Greg's jacket that was left at the scene of the abduction, and a close inspection told me all I needed to know."

"What do you have, Grissom?" Sara asked.

"A piece of paper with the kidnapper's name and home address on it." He held up his hand, showing them the paper.

Warrick frowned, confused. "Wait - Why would Greg carry that around?"

Catherine shook her head, dismissing him.

"No time to think about that now, Warrick. We've got to save Greg!"

The team rushed to their Tahoes, Sara and Nick piling into one and the rest taking the other car. They drove in frantic silence, all of them worriedly considering the state they would find their dear lab tech in.

"...I had a stalker once."

"Nick, for the last time - nobody cares."

"..._You _never had a stalker..." He muttered grudgingly, glaring out the passenger window.

They arrived at the house, quickly exiting their vehicles.

Pulling out her gun, Catherine waved to the others. "We'll go in on three."

Warrick paused, glancing around.

"Shouldn't Brass be here or something? I mean, none of us are cops."

Grissom waved away the comment. "Details, Warrick. That's our guy in there. We're gonna save him."

Flanking the building, the CSIs readied their weapons. On Grissom's signal, Nick kicked down the door, the rest of them following.

"Freeze!"

The team gasped in dismay at the sight of Greg, tied up and bruised. His hair was even worse in person. Sara's lips trembled, but she knew she had to keep it together. For Greg.

Across the room, Chuck Foster froze, a deck of playing cards in his hands.

"Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have left my address in his coat pocket," he cursed, throwing the cards down.

Stokes stepped forward, tightening his grip on his gun. "You're under arrest, Foster."

"I don't think so," the criminal said, "I mean, it's not like any of you can actually shoot those things."

The CSIs scowled in dismay. He was right - their one weakness.

Turning, Chuck made a break for the back door.

"He's getting away!" Grissom shouted.

Catherine ran, grabbing an exposed pole with both hands and executing a perfect spin kick, effectively knocking out the kidnapper. She smiled, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Finally - that backstory about me being a stripper was actually useful."

The kidnapper defeated, the team turned to their lab rat, huddling around him. The true horror of the ordeal he had bravely faced hit them full force.

"Greg, man," Warrick said, looking worried. "Can you hear me?"

Moaning, Greg pried his good eye open. "You guys actually came?" he rasped, coughing pitifully. "But I thought you all hated me."

Tears streamed down Sara's face. How could they have neglected him so?

"Of course we came, Greg," Grissom assured him. He hung his head regretfully. If only he weren't so emotionally and socially inept - he could have done more to show Greg what a valued and important member of the lab he was.

"We care about you," Nick said, placing a supportive finger on the only part of Greg's shoulder that wasn't bruised. "You're family."

The ambulance came quickly after that, the paramedics carefully cutting Greg down and loading him onto a stretcher.

After much debate, they agreed to allow all five CSIs to ride along in the back. They each took turns holding Greg's sole unbroken finger and whispering supportive declarations to him.

The hospital was frantic with activity, the team trying to keep up with Greg's stretcher.

"Dr. Doyle!" A short redheaded woman with glasses and a crutch hobbled towards Sara. (2)

"Dr. Weaver!" Sara exclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here? Isn't County General in Chicago?"

Kerry Weaver waved her question away. "It's fanfiction. Just be glad they didn't drag the cast of '_West Wing_' in here." She fixed the CSI with a pleading stare. "Please tell me you're back to do a guest-spot. Our last guest-star isn't working out that well." She gestured towards a black-haired man who was desperately trying to put a band-aid on a gunshot wound. (3)

Sara frowned. "When did Uncle Jesse go to medical school?" (4)

Dr. Weaver shrugged. "So, how about it? Will you come back and do a few episodes? We could really use the ratings."

Sara shook her head. "Sorry, Kerry, but _my _show is still popular."

She turned and walked towards the other CSIs.

"Wait!" Kerry waved an admitting chart frantically. "We'll get you a good storyline! I'm out of the closet too, now! We can be lesbian-doctors together!" Sara disappeared around a corner. "Damn it."

* * *

After hours of sitting in the waiting room, the team was going mad with worry, but the extended down-time had provided plenty of opportunity for fervent declarations of appreciation for Greg. Warrick was just in the middle of praising Greg's tendency to skip the last step of the east stairwell when a doctor finally exited Greg's room. Immediately, they crowded around him, anxious for answers about the young technician.

"How is he, doctor?" Nick asked, preparing himself for the worst.

The doctor shook his head.

"He's got three cracked ribs, nine broken fingers, a broken arm, and a fractured collar bone."

Everyone nodded.

Sensing the doctor was holding back something, Grisson asked, "Is that all?"

Dr. Higgins sighed regretfully. "I'm afraid not... His...hair is damaged beyond repair. He'll need a transplant immediately, but I'm not sure how much we can do for him."

The group gasped. Catherine bursts into tears, throwing her arms around Grissom. "NOOOOO!"

Grissom patted her head.

"He's too young to be bald, Gil!"

Nick struggled with with himself. "Dammit, I'll give him _my _hair!" He lunged to grab a pair of scissors.

Sara stopped him just in time. "Nick - NO! We just got your hair looking normal again!"

"But without his hair, Greg's fanbase will plummet, Sara. Plummet!"

She hugged him. "I know, Nick. I know. But we'll just have to be strong. For Greg."

* * *

Greg was groggy as he woke up, the smiling faces of his team surrounded him.

"Wha- What happened?" he asked.

"Good news, Greg," said Catherine, beaming at him from the chair next to his bed. "A male stripper was hit by a bus and they were successfully able to transplant his hair onto your head."

Greg's eyebrows raised. "Sucks to be him. But at least my hair looks cool again!"

Everyone laughed in agreement. What fortunate timing!

Randomly, Brass stuck his head in the door of the hospital room.

"Good news, everyone. Greg's kidnapper was run over by a semi-truck on the way to the courthouse. He's dead!" The team cheered. "And Greg's getting an award from the city for his bravery!" With that, Brass disappeared again.

Warrick turned back to their injured lab rat with a heartwarming smile. "And we all realised how much we care about you!"

"And we all pitched in to send you to Miami for a month!" Catherine added. "God knows _their_ team could use an interesting character."

"And I love you," Sara declared, pulling him in for a big kiss.

"And our bond of friendship truly has been strengthened by this ordeal," said Nick, clapping a hand on Greg's shoulder.

"I feel that we're all better people for this experience," Grissom agreed, proud of his team for pulling through.

"I can't tell you how much all of this means to me," said Greg, sniffling as he remembered his tortured past and broken family. It was so great to have a new family to watch out for him.

Sara smiled down at the love of her life. "We should get you home."

Warrick nodded, standing as the began to file out of the room.

"I should probably go call _my wife _and tell her what happened."

Catherine glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Give it a rest, would you?"

Nick stayed behind, helping Greg into his wheelchair.

Greg's brow furrowed.

"Wait - doesn't this seem a little _too _wrapped-up? I mean, shouldn't I have severe emotional scarring to deal with?"

Nick clapped him on the shoulder. "I know, man. I felt the same way after I got kidnapped."

Greg frowned confusedly. "What the hell are you talking about, Nick?"

He wheeled away, leaving Nick standing alone in the hospital room.

"Oh, come ON!"

_Fin._

* * *

**[Very Very Dated] References (although, if you have to look at these, I guess the joke fell flat with you. Sorry!):**

(1) 'I Can Be Your Hero' by Enrique Iglesias

(2) Kerry Weaver was a longtime character on the TV show '_E.R.'_, where Jorja Fox used to play Dr. Maggie Doyle, who was a gun enthusiast and lesbian among other things.

(3) Jorja Fox also had a recurring role on '_West Wing_' as Secret Service Agent Gina Tuscano.

(4) John Stamos, the guy who played 'Uncle Jesse' on 'Full House', went on to become a doctor on '_E.R._'. Personally, I felt it was a bad choice, but the show was in the crapper by then anyway. Sorry to those who still enjoyed it at that point.


End file.
